


All I Need is You

by WincestOTP



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 23:45:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4724660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WincestOTP/pseuds/WincestOTP





	All I Need is You

No chick-flick moments.

That’s the Winchester’s golden rule, and Sam tries to stick with it, he does. But Dean is back from Hell. His death had left a gaping, bleeding wound in Sam’s soul, and their quick ‘welcome back’ hug didn’t really do anything to stitch it up. Dean seems to think everything is back to normal, throwing himself headlong into danger and being generally reckless and so full of self-loathing and despair that it’s tearing Sam apart. They fight more and more–vicious, bitter arguments that Sam hates himself for afterwards, but Dean seems determined to punish himself, and Sam can’t take it anymore.

They storm into the motel room after what should have been a simple salt and burn that instead left them bruised and bloodied, rage simmering under Sam’s skin like he’d swallowed Hellfire instead of beer on the way home. Dean tosses his duffel on the bed and immediately announces he’s going out for a drink–alone–and Sam snaps.

Sam has him up against the wall–pinned, helpless, spitting curses and demands–before either of them know what he’s doing.

“No,” he spits angrily, pressing his hips into Dean to hold him in place. “Not tonight. I’m sick of watching you try to drink yourself to death, throwing yourself at every evil son of a bitch who wants a piece of you. No more.”

Dean makes a hurt sound, almost a whimper, eyes wide and lips parted, and Sam realizes, suddenly, just how tightly he’s holding his brother. They’re pressed together from chest to knees, Sam’s hands clenched tight around Dean’s wrists. And they’re both hard.

Dean makes that noise again and pushes against Sam, tentatively this time, rolling his hips and Sam shudders. That thing, that heat, that’s been between them for as long as Sam can remember swamps the rage in his blood, washing it away as though it never existed.

“Sammy,” Dean whispers, and then they’re kissing for the first time, rough and fast like they’ve both forgotten how. It’s good, though. Better than good. He’s not holding Dean’s wrists anymore, because his hands are on Dean’s face, angling him into the kiss, smoothing it out, and Dean just lets him. Pushes his thigh between Sam’s legs and oh Christ that’s perfect.

Sam doesn’t let himself think about what they’re doing, Dean pushing his flannel off his shoulders and Sam fumbling with Dean’s belt. They break apart long enough to pull Sam’s shirt over his shoulders and then Dean leans in to bite and suck at Sam’s tattoo, hands finding Sam’s hips and shoving him back toward the bed. Sam knows he should stop this, find out what’s going through Dean’s head, but he’s wanted this since he was a teenager and he can’t bring himself to give it up now that he’s finally getting it.

Sam’s knees hit the bed, and he lets himself fall, tugging Dean down on top of him. Dean immediately kisses him again, and Sam’s hands fall to Dean’s hips, rough friction that’s not quite enough.

“Off,” he gasps, tugging at offending cloth, and Dean obliges, kicking his jeans off in one quick move.

“You too,” Dean growls, fumbling with Sam’s belt. He gets it open and drags Sam’s pants down, tossing them aside carelessly.

He leans back in to kiss Sam, catching Sam’s hands as he does and stretching them up over his head. He holds him there, nibbling at Sam’s lips before sliding over to nuzzle into the warm space between between Sam’s ear and shoulder.

“Wanna touch you,” Sam says, not quite a whine, jerking his wrists a little in Dean’s grip. He knows what Dean’s going to say–

“You are touching me,” Dean breathes a little smugly, teasing big brother even now. He rocks down into Sam and Sam can’t help the soft little sound that escapes. Dean smiles; pulls back and just looks at Sam spread out beneath him. Sam flushes as Dean murmurs “Gorgeous” under his breath and leans in kiss him again, lips and tongue finding the smooth place behind Sam’s ear again. His stubble scrapes deliciously against sensitive skin, and Sam can’t help the stutter of his hips, breath going shallow and desperate as he arches up against his brother.

“Dean,” Sam gets out, and feels Dean smile against his skin at the broken edge to it. “Dean, please—“

Dean doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull back, just opens his mouth against warm skin and sucks at Sam’s racing pulse. Sam moans, hips rolling upward, trying to find a rhythm, and Dean matches him, pressing down against the bulge of Sam’s erection in his boxers as Sam’s body arches against him.

The embarrassing little whimper of want Sam’s movement drags from Dean thrills through Sam; he rocks his hips up against Dean’s even harder, heat and pressure and friction and Dean pulls back, mouth open and slack as he meets Sam thrust for thrust.

“Fuck, Sam,” Dean grates out roughly, eyes finding Sam’s. “Kiss me.” He licks his lips, already kiss swollen and wet, and Sam can’t resist–doesn’t even try.

Sam cranes his neck up to Dean, their mouths meeting halfway. Sam ignores the ache in his neck and shoulders as he licks at the seam of Dean’s lips, pressing into his brother. Dean groans into it, hands clenching tight over Sam’s, and Sam lets him for a moment before he has to touch. Dean’s fingers are looser now, easy to twist free, and Dean doesn’t protest, seems to welcome Sam’s big hands around his face as they kiss. Sam’s throbbing, pulsing underneath Dean, sheen of sweat on his shoulders slipping under Dean’s fingers when they settle there, and he’s powerless to do anything but ride the rush, hips surging up against his brother as pleasure rushes through them both.

“Fuck. Fuck,” Dean groans, mouth gone slack and wet against Sam’s. “Jesus Christ, Sam - “ and Sam can feel him shaking, fingers clenching, thighs pressed tight against Sam’s. Sam shudders, feeling wet heat pulse against his cock as Dean comes, white hot pleasure surging through Sam at the thought. He grips Dean’s hips and rocks up hard, rutting frantic and fierce against the wet swell Dean’s dick in his boxers.

“Shit,” he gasps, and then his cock is spurting against cotton, soaking through the fabric and jerking hard against Dean’s, and that’s fucking it. Dean collapses down onto his chest as though his strings have been cut, crushing Sam slightly but with Dean warm and soft against him Sam can’t bring himself to care.

“Fucking hell,” Dean murmurs faintly after a few moments. He starts to sit up, and Sam’s arms tighten around him instinctively, not wanting him to pull away. Dean makes a half-hearted protest, then settles back down in a slightly more comfortable position against Sam’s chest.

“This is gross, Sam,” he says, words muffled where his face is buried in Sam’s neck.

“Yeah, but…” Sam can feel a stupid smile settling on his face, one he’s glad Dean can’t see and tease him about. “I still kinda like it.”

“We’re so not cuddling if we do this again,” Dean says grumpily. “Seriously.”

“If?” Sam doesn’t mean to say it but the doubt in Dean’s voice shocks it out of him. He’d thought…

“Well, I mean.” Dean struggles upright again, and this time Sam lets him. He avoids Sam’s eyes, staring fixedly at the purpling bruise over Sam’s tattoo instead. “If you want to. I know this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for tonight.”

It takes a moment to sink in, just what Dean’s talking about, and he goes cold then hot when it does.

“Dean, I—that’s not what it’s about, okay? She’s helping me, training me. Getting ready to take on Lilith.” He lifts his eyes to Dean’s, pleading. “I can’t lose you like that again, Dean. I can’t.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Sammy,” Dean says gruffly. “And I don’t want you anywhere near that lying bitch. We’ll work this out the way we always do, just us.”

“Just us,” Sam echoes. It sounds hollow even to his own ears, but Dean seems satisfied. “C’mon, let’s get a shower before my underwear permanently adheres to my junk,” Dean says, shifting off Sam and over the edge of the bed. Sam follows him, wondering what the hell they’re going to do now.


End file.
